Latest Posts by oakedredwine - Page 2

Sign this petition to help stop the Willow Project!

"Pollution the project brings will disrupt ecosystems that Indigenous Alaskans have relied on for millennia. And "The project threatens the already vulnerable caribou population — a vital resource many native communities rely on.""

👇Here's a link for more information on the Willow Project👇

https://www.openaccessgovernment.org

👇 here's the link for the petition👇

https://chng.it/DQ65Mjv6zH

Hot

It's becoming increasingly obvious, I have an addiction:

Have a good day or something, I don't know.

You think you've had a bad day?

Well, I wake up--every day-- in FUCKING SOUTH CAROLINA

I just became a fucking riddler. When I got home after a long day, someone called for me, and I, the greatest critical thinker, announced very loudly:

"A word of warning; a word from the wise.

I tell you in advance, I'm not wearing pants."

I feel amazing.

reblog if your name isn't Amanda.

2,121,566 people are not Amanda and counting!

We’ll find you Amanda.

A new hyperfixation:

✨️Drawings tailored to a spinning wheel's demands✨️

Name him 👇

The lore:

Nothing lasts forever. It was an arranged marriage. Daddy bird's an alcoholic. Daddy bird needed the protein powders to feel better about his depression, debt, and other unresolved personal issues. He made mommy bird a hooker and took all her money. Grandma bird and grandpa bird were witnesses. Baby bird was a mistake. They needed to be dealt with... Cthulhu got mad because they woke him up, so he called the police.

This movie is amazing. It's so expressive; each character is dynamic and has a sense of realness to them. The way that fragility and one's flaws are conveyed has brought me to tears each time I've watched--You can find it on Netflix--(Reblog and tag a movie that makes you cry as well).

Omg, I don't know how the manga artists do what they do. I'm on my first panel, and I'm about to cry. It's so hard. For three images (just lineart-not even colored), it took 3 weeks because of my procrastination game.

does anyone else have a drink that u just go crazy when u have it ? like i pour myself apple juice and it’s gone in 3 seconds because i can’t control myself around it

rb & tag what drink u can’t have around u for more than 5 seconds

Master List

Requests are open: I thought it'd be really funny if people made requests like they were ordering from a drive thru, but you don't have too.

(Ex. I'd like a MHA Hawks HC with a number 4- Long, and extra fluff.

I mostly write Gender Neutral and Male aligned readers because there are plenty of Fem aligned posts, but I'm not opposed to writing feminine readers.

!! Please request specific pronouns. Otherwise, the MC will use they/them !!

== If it makes you more comfortable, I'm totally okay with writing an MC described as AFAB or AMAB with any pronoun (she/he/they/zir) if you prefer

~Remember! You don't have to be LGBTQIA+ to request, I'm just creating the most inclusive page I can :)

Idea Board:

"Chicken" - Party game

7 minutes in heaven - Party Game

Truth or dare - Party game

Sick day (reader)

Sick day (partner)

Over protective (reader)

Over protective (partner)

Baking together

Cuddling on a rainy day

Comfort after a nightmare (receiving)

Comfort after a nightmare (giving)

Reallt Tall Reader

Really Short Reader

Enemies to lovers

Red String (or soulmates)

Childhood Sweethearts

Forbidden Love

A Second Chance

Love Triangle (✨️oooh scandalous✨️)

Opposites Attract

Stuck together

Ditched by friends at ___ event

"Just friends"

Pen pals

Wedding Runaway

Sunny vs Grumpy

Oblivious to love

Can't spit it out/ say how they feel (reader)

Can't spit it out/ say how they feel (partner)

Road Trip

Isekai'd (reader)

Isekai'd (partner)

Fake Dating

Hold My Drink

Roommates

One Night Stand

-- You can also request your own --

^I'll add more based on popular requests^

Type:

Headcannon

Oneshot

Length:

Short

Medium

Long

Add-ons:

Some fluff

Some angst

Some smut

Some spice

Extra fluff

Extra angst

Extra smut

Extra spice

(Spice: Make out or sexual themes, not the deed)

Fandoms:

Anime

Attack on Titain

Demon Slayer

Jujutsu Kaisen

Blue Period

Death Note

Black Butler

The Seven Deadly Sins

Hunter x Hunter

Naruto

Soul Eater

Komi Can't Communicate

(Definitely more, just can't think of em)

Games

Stardew Valley

Life is Strange

Other

Arcane

Creepypasta

♡What I will write♡

LGBTQIA+

Slight blood/gore

Angst

Song fics (only if I'm in the mood, though)

Smut

Most kinks (includes BDSM)

**I'm open to more, so just DM or ask me, and I'll see what I can do**

!!What I will not write!!

Transphobia/Homophobia/Queerphobia

Psychosis episodes

Body shaming/abelism

Slurs

Suicide/self harm/anything of that nature

Rape/Non-consentual sex

Smut of characters younger than 18 y/o,

Incest (direct or indirect), piss, scat, puke, mutilation, or dismemberment kinks

Side note:: I will always put 18+ warnings on smut, and TWs when necessary ♡

I just realized that the highest form of compliment that I can muster is:

"Ur a cool person, dude"

I literally spent 4 minutes formulating that compliment to one of my friends because I didn't want to sound sappy or like I was hitting on her.

I need all the luck I can get for my exams this week 💚

so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god

I was playing adorable home and my character was doing the exact same thing as me :)

     If I die tomorrow...

Don't tell my friends.

     Tell them I traveled to a far away place, they'll never see.

     Tell them of how famous I am for my talents, but they'll never see me on the news.

     Tell them of how lucky I am, but they'll never see me in the lottery drawings.

     If I die by my own hands,

Don't tell my friends.

     Tell them how old and wrinkled my hands grew, instead.

          Tell them of my joyous, happy life.

     Don't tell them of my sorrows and greif, those are only for me to carry.

     Don't tell them how heavy everything was, how my thoughts were hurtful.

     Dont tell my friends how responsibilities pulsed in my skull, constantly, and how I always ignored them.

     If I die.

          Lie to my friends.

     I don't want them to know, who I am underneath the shattered visage they seek.

Workaholic Pt.2

--Check out Pt.1 first; It means a lot :)--

It was early-ish and the house smelled of coffee and cinnamon. The crackling of oil in a pan occasionally rose to be a loud sizzle. The sounds of popping from the skillet mixed with that of thunder and rain outside the window.

You rose from the bed and picked up the dusty bag at the bedside. It was heavy and smelled of coal. You wiped your eyes as if it'd wake you up faster-it didn't- and walked toward the house door.

"Hey. No no no. You didn't even have breakfast." Your husband sped walked over to you and held you by the waist. You felt butterflies rise in your stomach.

"I just need to put this in the shipping crate outside." You tried to negotiate with the man.

"You have all day to do that. Right now you need to sit down and eat." He dropped the bag on the floor and spun you around, guiding you to the table. It had one chair. It always did, even before Sebastian moved in.

This was the first time you pulled it out from the table and sat in it. He set a cup of coffee and a plate of complete breakfast down. He stood at the other end of the table and ate, holding his plate. You looked at him, regret washing over you.

"I should have bought us another chair." You said. He looked at you.

"Don't worry about that right now." He said softly.

You shut up and ate your breakfast, but while eating some of the hashbrowns you'd come to realize that you never bought anything as decoration for the house.

The wallpaper was still a leafy green color and the TV still set on the floor. Your room was empty, just a bed, and the only reason you bought the extension of the kitchen was to convince the mariner to give you the mermaid pendant.

'What was it he said?' You can't remember what the guy said. It was raining and you were too frustrated to make a mental note of it.

You finished your plate of food and stood up. You mindlessly began doing the dishes. Sebastian gently nudged you aside and assisted you. You smiled.

"I remember when we still just barely knew eachother." He said. You leaned your head on him.

"You would come out of the mines, covered in snow and ice, wander around the town for ages, and find me at the dock. "

"You gave me a frozen tear. I had no clue how you'd known my affinity toward them, but you'd return and bring me gifts. Every week." He held onto your hand.

"Everytime you'd find me, I'd know it was you behind me. Your footsteps were so familiar. You even started visiting me. The moment my mom opened the shop, you'd come straight to my room, wake me up, and give me sashimi." He chuckled at the warm memories.

"You care so much, and I love you for that. But there's a time when you need to take a breath and stop working so hard." He faced you head on.

"Lately you've been scaring me. You wake up at 6:00 and work for 18 hours straight. You've been getting reckless in the mines too. You've been bringing more and more elixirs and bombs. " He held onto your shoulders tightly.

"I'm sorry. " You tried to say more but you couldn't.

"Sometimes, I feel like I still barely know you." He frowned and avoided eye contact.

"I'm sorry." You repeated. He hugged you.

"Stop saying sorry. I'm not mad, and you don't need to ask for forgiveness. You've just-" He couldn't find the words, but you understood what he wanted to say.

You closed your eyes and hugged him. It was exausting staying on auto pilot for so long.

"Remember when I found you on your bike late at night after we first got together? You let me hop on the back and you drove me to see the edge of the city?" You asked. The memory replaying in your mind.

"Yes. Of course!" He smiled as the memory replayed for him as well.

"When you asked me what I thought of the city, at first I wanted to say:

"It's beautiful!"

But I stopped. I took a moment to think and grasp that feeling I had. I felt strangely sad. It was like a heavy pit in my stomach. It scared me. I wanted to change the subject, but I didn't want to be obvious. So instead I just turned to you and smiled." You said to him not sure where this was going.

"I just thought it was a nice memory." You admitted.

"The city was beautiful." You added before going quiet.

"Do you want to see it again?" He asked.

"That would be nice." You said.

Workaholic Pt.1

Fandom: Stardew Valley

Sabastian x reader

'I have 3 hours to get down 2 more levels' Your hurried footsteps echoed through the cavern. The heavy thuds ricochet against the damp cave walls and water droplets mixed with the dirt and rock below, making a crunchy and muddy mess of your shoes.

Rocks crumbled under your pickaxe, and overgrown vines were shredded by your scythe. The squeaks of bats and the indescribable sounds of slimes closed in.

Dozens of rocks lay in ruin; precious gems forgotten in corners that seemed to momentarily escape your concentration. The last rock in this damp hell yields nothing. Not a hidden ladder-nor salvageable stone - just ache.

'Damn, a rock crab' the creature scuttled toward you with its tough skinned limbs. The creature-in one swift movement-cut into the flesh of your leg. Blood began to escape the wound.

'No, I'm almost there.' Thirty minutes left; one level until another elevator shaft appears. The energy in your body began to drain, and the rock crab fell lifeless due to your heavy sword.

The bat to your left dove to your head but met your sword. It too fell limp. The slime slowly bounced over to you. You stepped towards the bat's corpse to collect it's wings but the ground below crumbled.

You mentally cursed until a familiar 'ding' filled the cavern. A beautiful diamond-adorned rock twinkled in the dim light of your glowing ring.

Your stopwatch stopped clicking, the silence wad deafening. 12:00 AM. Your bones felt too heavy for you to carry.

The ground behind you crumbled and a growl was heard. Your heart dropped. You hobbled over to the elevator, blood painting the void colored ground beneath you.

A bottle on your hip clanked against a cherry bomb, setting a beeping timer.

You threw the small red explosive behind you and chugged the liquid in the pale red-well used-bottle. The taste was earthy and opulent, spicy and somewhat fruity. The liquid heavily coated your throat and the previous gash on your leg sealed in a white light.

You entered the elevator feeling like time paused as the dust and mud on your body was lifted by the effects of the life elixir. You heard a faint explosion as the elevator traveled upward.

12:10 AM. You ran through the suffocating darkness back to your small cabin. The smell of the mountains calming your nerves.

12:50 AM. You stood outside the door, with the energy from the elixir quickly fading. Taking a deep breath you entered the cabin.

A fire was lit to warm the house. You stumbled past the TV that played a screen over encumbered by static and white noise-glancing for a moment but loosing interest. You dropped your bag of heavy rocks and gems and tools by the bedside. Dust clouded the floor.

You maneuvered yourself under the blankets and glanced over at Sebastian. He cuddled up to your cat, Soup. He stirred in his sleep.

"Hmmn... Babe? It's late." He grumbled.

"I know. I was only in the mines a bit, I stayed in the cleared areas." You said, lying through your teeth. He eyed you.

"See? Not a scratch." Your eyes grew heavy. He rolled over to face you. You cuddled him and closed your eyes.

"You smell like mushrooms..." He said, a tinge of sadness.

"I know." You replied, heart sinking.

"You got hurt again. Didn't you?" He asked.

Your eyed burned. You held back the lump in your throat.

"I'm fine." You tried not to let your voice waver.

"That's not what I asked." He gripped the back of your shirt.

"I know." You said pulling him closer.

Soup hopped off the bed and lay in front of the fireplace.

"I love you."

"I'm sorry."

You both spoke in sync. He looked at your closed eyes that leaked tears. He examined the scrunched expression and how your lips pressed into a thin line. He wasn't mad. He held your face gently and leaned in to kiss you.

"I love you too." You said to him, before he could pepper kisses to your face like he usually does. His heart felt heavy. You both fell asleep after that.

This might be stupid that I'm just now making this connection but-hear me out-

Rio kinda looks like an axolotl

Im not the only one...right?

Untying

Suppress or express?

Depress by the mess that lie there in rest.

Even when I try my best, I can't pass my tests.

Let the past be the past.

I hope that's the last time

I cast false hope.

I'll lie and mope;

Try to cope,

Maybe grab hold of that thin rope.

Grab hold like it's gold;

Tie myself together dispite the cold and mold that rolled around me.

I sat on the ground,

For years on that mound.

I pound on my head with my hands.

I grew addicted to the sound of myself crying.

I think that gold rope is untying.

KNot

Everybody thinks he's so tall,

But in his mind he's so small

And with every grain that will crawl for each incoming call...

he too does fall.

It's ironic not iconic

To tie glass models to yourself.

It's ironic

To only see your imperfections on that shelf.

It's not iconic

To simultaneously care too little and care too much.

Tall or small, he's stuck in a knot.

Ironic or iconic, he's left there to rot.

He's dug himself a hole, coffin lid tied taught;

And down he goes, ready or not.

The Portal

There's a depressed person that lives across from me.

Their window curtains are always open, and various-luscious-plants lie in front of the portal.

Every morning, I see them lay in bed. They hope that they can sleep all day, but they always wake up and soulessly wonder about.

It's 11:57a.m.

It's a sad sight to see, it's only a kid.

The melancholy in each sigh, and waning step.

The tears that stream down their face everyday grow heavier and louder as the weeks progress.

One afternoon, I could hear them crying.

I still saw them through that damn window.

Just laying in bed. Face red, swolen, and lost.

They looked like they were already dead.

Sometimes I swear they'd see me staring back through the portal, but they never really seemed to care.

Then, the third week of April came around. Their cries were silent, sinking deep into themself, forever leaving prints on their skin (in the wrinkles of their face and in the scars that they bore)

They repeated, over and over, "I'm okay. I'm okay. It's okay. I'm fine. I'm fine."

They lied to themself. Everyday.

Sometimes, when I'd catch a glance

They're full of horrible rage; cursing, yelling, punching walls, pushing others away, pulling out their own hair.

Regret.

Apathy.

Guilt.

Emptiness.

Words escape with toxic venom and force, without a second thought.

The storm that followed them would always fall apart and sink once the door to their bedroom closed.

They, too, would always fall apart and sink.

It was like the door cut off the gasoline that fueled the fire.

And instead--settled the fog and ashes into the cold hardwood floor. Staining the once whole shattered glass.

They pleaded with a higher being that they did not believe in.

But nobody came. No one could clear the cinders or the ash or glass or dust that lay on the floor or their silvery, charred skin.

Then they'd stare into the portal--at me.

And I'd stare back--at myself.